In the End
by Triannakumira
Summary: "There will be a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning." A series of one-shots that cycle through characters and time periods concerning Edward Elric and the end of the series. Now with plot! Major spoilers
1. Part 1: Roy Mustang

**Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. I simply delight in torturing good characters. This disclaimer will serve for the entire collection herein.**

Part 1

Point of View: Roy Mustang

Word Count: 720

10 December 1920

_In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends._

-Martin Luther King, Jr.

Enduring Blindness

I had never met a man like Edward Elric. There was an aura about him; you could simply tell that he had seen a lot in his life, met despicable people, but he still, somehow, believed in humanity. He believed there was light in the world.

I met Edward when he was twelve. Even having done the forbidden and paying dearly for it, one would think he would have given up, avoided alchemy forever. Yet the opposite occurred - he gained drive, determination. He appeared in my office with steel limbs and a steel brother and a mischievous grin. I wanted to help him to achieve his goals, would aid him in any way - but I found myself begging a god I didn't even know: _please, please, do not let him pass that test…_

But of course he did; was there ever any doubt that he would pass?

It did not take long for the darker side of the world to make itself known to him. I would like to say I was being a realist, but I was really trying to be the heartless bastard he always proclaimed me to be - anything to drive him from the hellish path of the military. Either way I left him drowning in the rain and the sorrow.

And yet he kept going, and I both hated and admired him for it. I wished he would stop, retire, although it was not in his nature to do so. I wished he would accomplish his goals quickly, so he could leave that much faster and take all his color with him. I wished he would stay, forever, because no one had ever reminded me so forcibly of why I had to become what I was. Such sentiments devoured me even as they fed my will to live.

He would appear in my office for debriefing grimy from travel and frustrated by lack of progress. No matter what I wished - to brush the dirt off his face, to put my hand on his shoulder, to comfort him, to make him at ease - I remained behind my desk, remained _formal_, and allowed propriety and probing insults to fill the space between us.

So our relationship went, but eventually it metamorphosized, and those unorthodox conversations carried with them an odd sort of affection - or so I liked to believe. Nothing changed, until the Promised Day, when_ everything changed, as there things are wont to do._

_I remember when he came into my hospital room, when he told me what he sacrificed. Though the world was dark to my eyes, it was as if everything had gone white - as if the world glowed a sickly hue. I remember begging him to tell me he was joking, that there was some mistake. I babbled. I reminded him that alchemy was his blood, his air; I said I couldn't imagine him without it; I revealed my hopeless affection for him, how I had enjoyed his company. He remained silent as I spoke, let me fall into incoherency. I wished I could see his face, and my words died on my tongue._

_And to all of this, he only said, "I know."_

_Then he very quietly told me that he was leaving the military, going home to take care of his brother and visit his mechanic. He said he would write to his friends in Central, that he would visit._

_I felt the warmth of his skin as he squeezed my hand - tried not to think that this was the second? third? time we had touched - and he was gone._

_I haven't seen him in three years._

_Oh, Hawkeye has, and Havoc and Breda have both received letters. Fuery got a picture of their dog's puppies, which he proudly displays on his desk. I have yet to receive a phone call._

_Gracia spoke to Alphonse today. Apparently, Edward has been very busy. I selfishly hope that he has just been growing accustomed to his new life, but I know that the blonde mechanic is also the cause. I would have thought he would have at least told me something. Anything. I would not believed Edward Elric to be a coward._

_But who knows what the future holds?_

_We shall see. I shall see. _


	2. Part 2: von Hohenheim

Part 2

Word Count: 543

Point of View: von Hohenheim

22 April 1917

_Children might or might not be a blessing, but to create them and then fail them was surely damnation. - Lois McMaster Bujold_

Repentance

Once upon a time, my family was content. I might even venture to say that they were happy, or at least I hope that they were. I cannot be certain, because I was not there to witness it.

Perhaps I cannot be certain of anything anymore, except that I wish with all my heart that I could have been there and the flimsy explanation for why I was not.

I suppose I could have done better; I could have written, sent a gift, or even visited. I could have left a way for them to contact me when it all went wrong.

Is it so wrong of me, to believe that things simply could not go wrong in such a sleepy place?

I don't know. My sons… Well, one forgives me, though I can't imagine why. I suppose he has Trisha's caring heart, but even Trisha must have hated me a bit at the end. It is nothing more than I deserve. Yet while one son forgives, the other cannot forget.

I was not there when the struggled with suffocating grief; I was not there when they were taught alchemy by a most demanding teacher _(could not have found a better person for the job - should never teach your own kids)_; I was not there when they drew the circle that would demand more than anyone can give; _I was not there_, so Edward has every right to hate me with all that he has.

I wish I could have seen them again under better circumstances. The Promised Day is coming, and my boys' sins are aiding the Homunculus. _(wasn't there for my own children so he'll win) _I should have never let it come this far. _(How was I to know Trisha's smile melt my heart - thought I didn't have one anymore - little Alphonse Agate Alexander dear sweet baby boy tragic encased in metal tragic determined Edward golden child Khryxes or Zargun too smart tragic too much like me tragic grew up all at once my fault my fault should have been there should have wasn't-)_

Maybe I can stop him on my own. Maybe my boys won't need to fight, fix their old _(old- old- __**ancient**__) _man's mistakes.

_(can't fix the past, can't go back, maybe give them the future? Peace?)_

Maybe if I try hard enough, Edward will call me "Dad."

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for staying with me thus far, I really appreciate it. A quick note about the names Hoho-papa mentions for the boys: Agate is Greek and means "kind." Alexander is also Greek and means "defender of mankind." Khryxes is a slight variation on the Greek name Khryses, meaning "golden." It was the name of the priest of Apollo. Zargun is a Persian word that means "gold-colored." Since Hohenheim was from Xerxes, which I see as a mixture of Greece and Persia, it followed that he might have had nicknames for them that were just as old as he was.**

**The next speaker should be surprising. **


	3. Part 3: Yoki

**A/N: Thank you to all who put this fic on their Favorites list! Remember, guys, reviews are always welcome! I am sorry I haven't updated in a while, things can get a little hectic around here. I do, however, have the next three parts of this written, so expect those soon. **

**I also know that I didn't promise a plot, but I happened to stumble upon a poisonous plotbunny on my way to writing, so this will now have a sort-of plot. It won't be told any differently, and the previous sections will not change. I'm not really sure where it's going, to tell the truth. I suppose we'll see. **

**Enjoy!**

Part 3

Word Count: 596

Point of View: Yoki

3 April 1919

_If a man has been his mother's undisputed darling he retains throughout life the triumphant feeling, the confidence in success, which not seldom brings actual success along with it. - Sigmund Freud_

But You Never Asked…

My father always told me to do what I could to get ahead.

He was an imposing man, my father. He came from an old military family that was once like the Armstrong's. My great-grandfather had been a Brigadier General; my grandfather, a Colonel with affection for horse races; my father, a mere First Lieutenant with a taste for beer. By the time I was old enough to comprehend such things, most of the family fortune no longer belonged to the family and the family name was quite unknown. Any mention of grandeur with my name led to laughter by the few who remembered it.

My father told me to take what I could, give nothing back.

I entered the military in relative anonymity. Everything was going great until a general somewhere recognized my surname. He couldn't take away my rank, but he could send me to the hinterlands.

Youswell. What the hell was I supposed to do in a nothing mining town like Youswell? The only way out was money - good showing in production reports, bribery - whatever it took. I raised taxes. I had to get out of there, fast. One does not become famous in Youswell.

My father always said that tears would get you hurt. He hit me harder when I cried, but I couldn't seem to stop.

Then the Fullmetal Alchemist appeared miraculously, like a star or a flame, and I could have sworn I had found my ticket out. He was young, probably impressionable, but he was beginning to garner a reputation. I thought I could use him as the vehicle of my escape. I couldn't have been more wrong. He took everything from me. I hated him for it, in a cowardly sort of way. After all, I am a coward, nothing more.

My mother used to tell me that there was no such thing as an ending; there was only a new beginning.

Something in Fullmetal's eyes that night, when he destroyed me, reminded me of my mother before she died. Her gaze had been filled with determination and contempt that night when she faced down my father, right up to the moment they held nothing at all. Her eyes had been black, and Elric's were amber, bit it was the same look.

My mother used to tell me that all things happened for a reason.

I had plenty of time to think as I wandered the streets. I thought about my mother, my father, the military. I fell in with the serial killer and the Xingese girl and I was given even more to think about. I thought about duty, good and evil, courage. By the time I met the Fullmetal Alchemist again, the game had changed entirely, and I didn't even understand who all the players were, let alone what winning or losing entailed.

My mother always told me to give back all that I was given and more.

If I said that I knew what happened on the so-called "Promised Day" I would be lying, and my mother hated it when I lied. All I know is that I have a somewhat decent job as a circus performer. It would probably be more enjoyable without those annoying chimerae, but the got me the job, so I can't complain. I don't know what, if anything, I'm giving back, but I'm not taking anymore.

You know, I hadn't thought about my mother in years, decades, but ever since that day, I think about her all the time.

I'd like to think she would be quite proud of me.


	4. Part 4: Winry Rockbell

**A/N: I must start out with an apology. I haven't been updating nearly as much as would like to. I can't really claim to make it up with this, because I'm no good at writing Winry's POV. :) So you'l get two parts this time around. They're both relatively short, but - well, you'll see.**

**Thanks to everyone who's added this to their favorites list! Remember, reviews are love. XD**

Part 4

Point of View: Winry Rockbell

Word Count: 383

19 June 1921

"_I believe that uncertainty is really my spirit's way of whispering, 'I'm in flux. I can't decide for you. Something is off-balance here.'"_

-Oprah Winfrey

Something New

I think I could get Alzheimer's, forget all about my life, and I would still remember his face when he stood there, one foot on the train, and yelled, "Equivalent exchange!" Silly boy. Even though he gave up the ability to use his science, he was still an alchemist at heart. I don't know anyone who could argue against that.

I can't imagine him as anything but an alchemist. Even now, four years after the fact, I still expect him to clap and transmute something. Actually, I've seen him - when he thinks no one is looking, he tries and nothing happens. There's a moment when he just looks forlorn, even slightly confused, as if someone had taken something very precious from him and he wasn't entirely sure what to do without it. Then it's gone and he will smile or laugh. It's kind of an edgy laugh, too, less Ed and more… serial killer, I suppose. Sometimes, I wonder if he's given up more than just his alchemy.

Oh my, what dreary thoughts on a day for happiness! I'm probably just getting cold feet. Mr. Garfeild isn't a help, either. He keeps crying all over the place - I don't know how he's going to take me down the aisle. It's a little late now, but maybe I should have asked Major Armstrong to… On second thought, perhaps Major Miles - or Roy Mustang, he could have done so, even if Ed acted strange around the man. I seriously don't know what's going on with those two. They would argue like mad, but they had had some major respect for each other - would have been best friends, if Ed hadn't been in the military. But now Ed winces whenever someone mentions Roy's name and Roy… well, I cant be certain, but I _think_ something flashes in those dark eyes when he hears Ed's name. It can be difficult to really know with General Mustang.

Oh, God, that's the music! I'm not ready, I'm not - I'm too young to married, even if it _is_ Ed! I should - !

I should calm down. What am I going on about? This is _Edward Elric we're talking about here; there's nothing to be afraid of._

_After all, isn't this what I've always wanted?_


	5. Part 5: Alphonse Elric

Part 5

Point of View: Alphonse Elric

Word Count: 262

9 November 1924

"_In the province of the mind, what one believes to be true either is true or becomes true." _

- John Lilly

Impossible Thoughts

I should have seen it coming. I should have known from the very beginning. I could have done something, if I'd only been paying attention.

From the very beginning, something was wrong. Very wrong. It's just that… I didn't want to believe it, wanted it to be over so badly that I told myself it really _was_ over.

But it wasn't over. As it got worse - bigger - more obvious - we _all _ignored it: me, Granny, Mei, Den, Winry - !… Oh, God, Winry... Right there in the think of the _madness _and not a _word_. I wish I knew _why_.

No, that's not right. I wish I _didn't_ know why. She couldn't believe it was happening. Maybe she thought that if she didn't give it a voice, didn't release the truth to the air, that it wouldn't be real. I wish I didn't understand that kind of logic but I can't make that claim. Maybe Winry wasn't thinking that way. I can't claim to know what was going on in her head. All I know are my own thoughts.

I never thought it would be _this_, not even in our darkest days searching for the Stone. I never thought I could be driving, _praying _that Granny won't still be crying when I get home, that _Den _won't still be… Well. _That_ is impossible.

But most importantly, had I been asked four years ago - no, even a year ago - I never would have told anyone that the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric - my _brother_! - belonged in _jail._


	6. Part 6: Riza Hawkeye

Part 6

Word Count: 385

POV: Riza Hawkeye

10 December 1920

_The male is a domestic animal which, if treated with firmness, can be trained to do most things. _

_-_Jilly Cooper

Point

The General has always been attracted to the wild things; or, rather, he has always been attracted to the taming of wild things. It's why he stayed with my father longer than any of his other students: flame is wild. Even when you control fire it is never truly tamed, simply restrained - a snarling dog at the end of a leash. It's why he aims for Fuhrership. His given motivations are true, no doubt - he really does want to prevent more meaningless slaughter - but running a country, controlling it, predicting the political currents; it's a challenge, something new to tame. That's where the initial appeal springs from. It's also why he's attracted to the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Ah, Fullmetal no longer. I'm sorry, it is hard to think of him a normal person, or at least as normal as Edward gets. The boy is - was - is like fire, a half-tame wolf on a leash. When he sat in my apartment, depressed and sipping tea, he seemed like a harmless kid in a world too big for him. It was only later that the feral glint returned to his eyes, tempered only by his brother and his odd form of morality. When we fought Father and Alphonse sacrificed himself, it was like cutting a leash. Ed's humanity…left. He was rage and pain and ferocity embodied, nothing but Id and fists and bloodlust.

The General sees this in the man who never followed orders properly and hungers for it. He wants to take this to his bed and feel its heat and fight and control it, make it submit, make Ed's animal wildness come at his beck and call.

What the General doesn't realize is that unlike his alchemy or his country, this person, Edward Elric, _will burn him every time he tries to tame him - this Edward Elric will never be controlled, not in the way the General wants to. It's only a matter of time before the General gets set ablaze and realizes this, runs back to where I am holding a bucket of water and the right words to set him back on track._

_It's quite amusing, isn't it? For all the General's penchant for taming wild things, he has yet to notice that he's been tamed by me._


	7. Interlude

_It's so dark here._

_(Where am I? Who am I?)_

_So very dark. And quiet. I don't think I've heard anything since I've gotten here. Have I?_

_(I don't know how I got here. Where is this place?)_

_There's no way to tell what time it is here. That's okay. I don't need to sleep or eat anything - or, I don't think I do, anyway._

_(How long have I been here? Who am I?)_

_Sometimes I remember little things: a girl - woman? - with blonde hair; a man who smelled of smoke; a suit of armor; a red coat. It's painful - I think it's pain, I'm quite uncertain - to think of these things for some reason, but I think I'm lonely, so I do anyway. At least, I __should__ be lonely in this situation. I don't know._

_(What does smoke smell like? What are __glasses__, and why are they special?)_

_I'm not alone all the time, though. Sometimes this man who glows white comes to talk. We have the most interesting conversations. Sometimes he looks at me funny, though, like he's waiting for me to do something spectacular. I think he might know something about me…like my name…?_

_(Why is he glowing? Does everyone glow here? Do I?)_

_(Why do I feel like I'm missing something important?)_

_(Who am I?)_

_It's so dark here…_


	8. Part 7: Den the dog

Part 7

Point of View: Den the dog

Word Count: 70

9 November 1924

_We call them dumb animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel, but they do not suffer less because they have no words._

-Anna Sewell,Black Beauty

It's quiet. I'm sleepy.

Oh! Person outside! Oh! I've got it! I've got it!

Aw….. Mistress got it. She smells surprised - Who is it? Is it metal-not-metal-brother? Boy, that was weird, wasn't it?

No.

Nonononono_nonoonono__**no**_**NO**! Big sister! Big sister is hurt! Blood, blood, not again, not big sister she smells so tired not big sister why her?not big sister who do I have to bite to make this right?


End file.
